


you and i both know

by rc1788, Unclesteeb



Series: Veterinarian/Lumberjack SamBucky Modern AU [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dogs, Fluff, M/M, WinterFalcon - Freeform, lumberjack!bucky barnes, sambucky - Freeform, veterinarian!sam wilson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 07:39:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12127698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rc1788/pseuds/rc1788, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unclesteeb/pseuds/Unclesteeb
Summary: Sam Wilson is a veterinarian who falls for Bucky Barnes, a strange man from the mountains who keeps bringing sick animals to his office. After several months together, their relationship is put to the test.... by dogs.AKA Sam and Bucky love each other almost as much as they love dogs.





	you and i both know

**Author's Note:**

> I can't get enough of [@zamnwilson's](http://zamnwilson.tumblr.com) genius AU idea where Sam is a vet and Bucky is a lumberjack who keeps finding sick animals. See: [here.](http://zamnwilson.tumblr.com/post/153836520845/real-quick)
> 
> And a BIG thank you to the amazing graphics by [@unclesteeb](http://unclesteeb.tumblr.com) who did them very last minute for me and I love them!!

_**frankie** _

It’s really hot out.

The sun threatened to set on them in the middle of the woods, but still, Bucky led Sam further east of his house. Sam tugged the front of his tshirt to unstick the sweat. He checked his watch. 8:45 PM. Four hours ago, Bucky’s dog Frankie took off into the woods. And he didn’t come home for dinner. The malamute was normally a laid back dog that only roused to defend the homestead from intruding animals (generally, possums and raccoons, and the occasional coyote that wandered too close). It wasn’t unlike Frankie to cast a wide perimeter around the house to survey his territory, but he always came back for dinner and at night.

“He’ll wander back by morning,” Sam told Bucky.

Bucky didn’t say anything. He paused and looked at the sunset. The woods would be shrouded in pitch-black darkness within the hour.

“He’s a big dog. And it’s not like there’s bears out here or anything. Frankie knows how to look after himself.”

“I know, but.”

Bucky kept staring at the horizon and got this look on his face like he wasn’t focusing on anything at all. Sam put a hand on Bucky’s back, felt him tense. “Frankie took care of my dad until the end. And dad asked me to take care of him.”

“It’s okay,” Sam murmured. “He’ll be fine.”

Brow furrowed, Bucky turned away from Sam and kept walking. Sam gave him some space. “He’s all I got left of him,” Bucky said.

Sam looked back toward the house, long out of sight, then at the sunset. He followed Bucky up the slope.

\---

Eventually, Bucky came around to giving up the search, just for the night. It would be useless in the darkness to look for Frankie, and besides, Frankie was going to find a place to sleep where he couldn’t be found. Back at the house, Sam poured each of them two fingers of whiskey and sat on the couch.

“I’m sure Frankie’s done this before,” said Sam.

Bucky sighed and looked down at his glass of whiskey. Took a sip and then frowned at Sam. “I guess, but… he’s gonna be out there all night. What if it rains? He hates getting wet.”

“He’ll be okay. Remember when you built him a dog house and he dug a hole next to it to sleep in instead?”

“Yeah,” Bucky snorted.

“Frankie’s gonna be fine. He’s kind of a man about town, you know? He owns these woods. He’s just gotta stretch his legs.”

Bucky smiled. “Yeah. Maybe he’s got a lady friend at the neighbor’s house, or something.”

“Frankie got a booty call.”

“Ew, I hate this,” Bucky laughed a little for the first time in hours.

“He’s a smart dog. He’s practically a park ranger.”

“A… _bark_ ranger, if you will,” Bucky tried with a smirk.

“Oh, _ugh_.”

“He’s gonna go… sniff out trouble.”

“Bucky.” Sam knew he couldn’t stop this once it started.

“Frankie’s gonna be _dog tired_ when he gets back.”

“Barnes. The puns. Stop.” Sam threw his head back on the couch.

“He’s got work to do canine to five.”

“I’m going to bed!”

At 2:30 AM, Sam woke up to a scratching sound. Bucky snored softly from beneath the pillow he usually smushed over his face. Sam was glad that Bucky finally fell asleep after a good couple hours of tossing and turning. The scratching sound from outside continued unbeknownst to Bucky, so quietly, Sam slipped out of bed and went to the window. Sure enough, he saw Frankie standing at the back door scratching at it.

“Woof!” Frankie barked.

Rather than rouse Bucky (in a deep sleep he was _very_ hard to wake up), Sam left the bedroom and went to the back door to let Frankie in. “Hey, buddy.”

Frankie looked up at him with his big dopey face. He wasn’t the kinda dog that got excited about much--he reminded Sam of a barely tamed wild animal sometimes. Frankie laid down on the hardwood floor and kept looking at Sam.

“You gave Bucky a scare.”

Frankie thumped his tail on the ground.

“Me too, really.” Sam knelt down on the floor and ran his hand over the long fur on Frankie’s side. “You’re a good boy.”

Frankie rolled over onto his back and looked at Sam, expecting a belly rub. Sam chuckled and granted the request.

“Whaaaaaaat,” Bucky said from the hallway door. “Frankie!”

Frankie wagged his tail but didn’t bother to get up for fear of interrupting his belly rub.

“You stupid idiot!” Bucky scolded Frankie as he knelt down by his head and scratched his cheeks. “I was so worried!”

Frankie did one of those dog squints that meant he was in doggy heaven getting lots of attention.

“He never does this,” Bucky told Sam with a big grin. “He never rolls all the way over for anybody.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Frankie likes you.”

“Well, I like Frankie.”

Frankie did a doggy sigh that ended in a hum that sounded like a bear growl. Then he rolled over, got up, and went back outside through the cracked open door. He got into his dog den and laid down to go to sleep.

“He’s a jerkface,” said Bucky, watching Frankie through the window. “I was so goddamn worried.”

Sam put his hand on Bucky’s lower back. “You’re a good dog dad, Bucky.”

“Yeah… but I’m not Frankie’s favorite, apparently.” Bucky flashed a grin and planted a kiss on Sam’s cheek. “Thanks for helping me look for him. There’s nobody else I’d want to spend a four hour hike with.”

Blushing, Sam wrapped his arm completely around Bucky and gave him a squeeze. “Yeah, well. I didn’t buy hiking boots for nothing.”

**_house sitting_ **

_Steve and Sharon Rogers’ House_

4 P.M.

“Who owns _two_ copies of Sideways?” Bucky asked loudly from his crouched position in front of the storage cabinet.

“I haven’t seen it.”

“ _Don’t_. You’re already a wine snob as it is. Any luck with the password?”

“Nope. I’ve tried every combination of ‘juniorbaconcheeseburger’ I can think of but I think Sharon didn’t tell Steve she changed the password before they left.”

“Ughhhh. We’re stuck here in their stupid clean house and their stupid DVD collection with no Netflix _all weekend_?” Bucky turned around and showed Sam the four-disc set of Indiana Jones. “Eh?”

“I just watched all those movies a week ago…”

“Of course you did.”

Sam saw both of Rogers’ dogs sitting by the backdoor looking intently out the window. “You wanna go outside, puppies?” he asked before he went over and opened the door for them. Arya was the newest member of the Rogers family, a year and a half old doberman puppy. She already weighed 70 pounds and still acted like a small puppy. Then their other dog was a Rottweiler named Bruce, who was 90 pounds of laziness that liked chilling out with a chew toy.

The buzzer went off in the kitchen which meant the frozen pizza was done. “I got it,” said Bucky. “Watch the dogs,” he called out to Sam as he went to the kitchen.

Sam stepped outside and took out his phone. He googled _how to hack your friends’ Netflix account_ and started skimming.

Bruce was in the back of the yard sniffing by the fence, and Arya stood near Sam looking at something.

Then Bruce started barking. Arya barked too, and before Sam could even look up from his phone, both of the dogs took off running to the side of the house. “Bruce?” he called out. Then he heard the rattle of the chainlink fence. “Arya?” he shouted, and ran after them.

Arya was gone. He caught sight of her hind legs as she rounded the front of her house and headed either down the driveway or to the neighbor’s house. Bruce hadn’t cleared the fence, but started headbutting it to follow.

“Oh _FUCK!_ ”

Sam ran for the fence and jumped. He’d never climbed a fence before, and wasn’t even sure if he could clear it, but he got a grip on the railing and swung a leg over--narrowly able to hold himself up to keep from smashing his junk on the sharp edge of the fence. He muttered _shit_ repeatedly under his breath until he dropped on the other side and started running. “Arya!” he shouted.

From down the street, he heard what _had_ to be a dog making a high-pitched bark. As he ran down the driveway toward the end of the cul de sac, Sharon’s words replayed in his head: _There’s baby bunnies in the backyard sometimes, and Arya is getting really good at chasing them. She can jump really high but she doesn’t seem to know she can clear the fence yet. We’re getting a privacy fence installed next week, but just watch her, okay_?

Failed step one.

The high pitched barking got louder and he saw Arya standing in another neighbor’s driveway, no baby bunny, and Arya was whining and barking and wagging her tail with a distressed look on her face. “Arya! C’mere!”

“Is that dog okay?” Sam heard somebody ask. A neighbor with a big sun hat and a watering pail slowly approached the situation.

Realizing too late Sam chased down a dog without a leash, he squatted down by Arya and picked her up. Just like all those deadlifts he did at the gym, only instead of a barbell it was a giant doberman puppy that was freaking out because she got lost.

“It’s fine!” he told the neighbor lady as he took off at a surprisingly capable trot back toward the Rogers house. Sam held Arya like a big lamb, and she at least stopped doing her weird whine/bark/scream.

Then Sam remembered Bruce, who’d been working on taking down the fence.

Bucky met him halfway back toward the house. “Shit! Arya!” Bucky said.

“Where’s Bruce?” Sam panted.

“Bruce?”

“Fuck!” Sam unceremoniously dumped Arya in Bucky’s arms, then taking off for the house. “He’s out too!” Sam shouted over his shoulder.

Sam’s lungs burned with every stride, and being on the high school track team felt like twenty years ago (and it almost was). Bruce wouldn’t be that fast--all he needed was to get some pepperonis for bait and a leash--

Apparently when Bucky booked it out of the house, he didn’t quite get the front door shut. _Great_! Sam jumped onto the porch and went in, crossing into the mud room in the back to grab Bruce’s leash.

As he passed the living room, he saw Bruce sitting on the couch chewing on one of his toys. Bruce looked up at him.

“Aghhh,” Sam doubled over and tried to catch his breath. “Bruuuuuce.”

Bruce slid off the couch and brought Sam his toy. He heard Bucky come through the front door and shut it, then Arya trotted into the living room, passed Sam, and sat in her dog bed like nothing happened.

“The news headlines,” Sam said between breaths, “would have read: local woman murders housesitters for losing her dog.”

“Yeah.” Bucky rubbed Sam’s back. “That’s a way to go.”

“There’s still time for Sharon to murder us. I might spill wine on her new couch.”

“Or…”

Sam straightened up, watching Bucky as his fingers started unbuttoning his sweat soaked shirt. Bucky pushed the fabric off his shoulders. “We could break some other house rules.”

“I can’t believe you’re suggesting that right now.”

“Oh, you’re right.” Bucky smirked, running his hands along Sam’s arms. “It wasn’t really a rule, I just figured nothing but sitting was allowed on their couch.”

“ _Bucky_.” Sam said. “You’re gonna make me break all the rules if you keep this up.” Sam’s ears burned from the way Bucky’s eyes trailed over his chest.

“ _What_? It’s a nice couch, Sam.”

_**surprise** _

“Close your eyes!”

Sam made a face. He’d been instructed to sit on Bucky’s couch and wait. “I really hate surprises, man.” And Bucky honored that for his birthday celebrations thus far--reservations at Sam’s favorite place to get tacos and margaritas and a play ( _The Hound of the Baskervilles_ because Sam’s a big nerd). And maybe Bucky secretly invited Sam’s friends Steve, Sharon, and Nat to meet them for drinks later. He didn’t _tell_ them to bring presents but he knew they would, and it was the only way to buy Sam Wilson _anything_ was to do it behind his back and wrap it up nicely so he couldn’t refuse. Mission accomplished. Steve got him Neil Degrasse Tyson’s new book, Nat got him a spring loaded pocket knife, and Sharon got him a sweatshirt with a pun on it.

“Aw, c’mon. It’ll be good. I promise.” Bucky made a little pathetic pout that seemed to do enough convincing to get Sam to cover his eyes with his hands (even if it was to only stop having to see a grown man pout).

“No peeking!” Bucky tore through the house and went down the hall to one of the spare bedrooms to grab Sam’s surprise. When he got back into the living room, Sam hadn’t moved (or left). “Okay,” Bucky said. “Here it is.” And he plopped the chihuahua mix named Pixie in his lap.

“What--” Sam caught the small fluffy dog and stared at it with wide eyes. Excitement built in his face as he stared and stared at the wiggling puppy.

“She’s yours, if you want her,” Bucky said softly.

“Where’s her leg?” Sam squeaked out. Oh, god. Oh, shit. He was gonna cry.

“She, uhm. It’s a long story, but she got rescued and her leg was broken.”

“She’s a tripod.” Sam picked up the puppy and held her up to his face. Her tiny little tongue licked his nose and she wouldn’t stop wriggling, stubby tail wagging.

Bucky wanted to get his phone out and take a million pictures of Sam making that sweet face and holding what Bucky determined was the cutest puppy he’d ever seen. But he’d spare Sam the embarrassment--the guy had to keep his _professional appearance_ around all kinds of animals on a daily basis, and he said it took a lot of self control not to go full--

“Tiny baby puppy! Little puppy paws! Puppy belly!” Sam cooed at the puppy, putting her on her back in his lap and rubbing his fingertips on her chest and belly. She play kicked and bit at him. “Ow!” Sam giggled, flipped her back over and petted the top of her tiny head. “Wrinkles,” he lamented. “Oh, my god, she’s the cutest.”

Bucky joined Sam on the couch and rested back, slung his arm around Sam. “You like her?”

“I love her! But--”

“I know, you said you’re gone too much to have a dog. I can keep her here during the day if you’re at work, and drop her off at your place so she’s there when you get home.”

“Bucky, that’s--that’s too much. You live 45 minutes away, and--”

“I know a good doggy daycare, too, if I get busy.” Bucky smiled.

Sam drew in a long deep breath and held Pixie up against his chest like a newborn baby. “Okay,” he said, then he melted into Bucky’s embrace and rested his head on his shoulder. “Okay,” he repeated. “I love her so much.” He looked up at Bucky and pressed a kiss under his chin. “And I love you.”

Bucky folded in his lips and his eyelids fluttered. Sam said that. _He said that_. Pixie wriggled free from Sam’s grip and dropped off of the couch, landing a bit splayed until she got all three feet on the ground to explore the living room.

“I love you, too.” _Wow_. Okay. He said it--finally, out loud, for Sam to hear, and not in twelve deleted text messages over the past week, or in his head when Sam was asleep, or behind his back while got orange juice out of the fridge. “Happy birthday, Sam.”


End file.
